Unremarkable
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: Sequel to 'TIB'. To Troy and Gabriella, their lives are nothing out of the ordinary. They've already had more than their fair share of drama. They just want simplicities; to be unremarkable. But is life ever really that easy? COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

**Hey readers! Well, here is the first chapter of the sequel story to _'The Inadvertent Bystander'_. You could say that this first chapter is the prologue in a way, as it gives you a background of the characters lives as they are now. It also includes some history from the first story, which can either serve as a recap if you've already read it; or brief you if you haven't read it. But hopefully it will persuade you to read _TIB_ first! Lol. Anyway, I hope you like it :) **

Unremarkable

As I steal a glance at the clock on the wall at the back of my classroom, a smile spreads across my face. Then I look at the group of pupils who are waiting eagerly for their cue to leave.

"Okay everyone, it's time to pack away and go home!" They don't need to be told twice. In a matter of minutes, they are all filing out the door. Every Friday I think they have beaten the record for the quickest getaway; and then they prove me wrong again. "Have a good weekend, and don't forget to bring in your homework on Monday!" I call out cheerily. Then I let out a chuckle as I hear multiple groans of protest. Two things that kids don't want to hear in the same sentence when the weekend is ahead of them: The words 'homework' and 'Monday'.

I can still hear their constant chatter as they disappear down the corridor. They can't wait to get home and forget about school work. And neither can I.

I begin to pack up my own things so that I can leave. I am almost ready to go when I hear a knock at the door, and I look up to see a pair of bright blue eyes. They belong to the man that changed my life forever, thanks to the events of one night. Every time I look into those eyes, I am reminded of the very first time I saw them up close. Every time I look into those eyes, I remember everything he has been through to get to this moment in his life. In our lives. Together.

As he enters the room, I come out of my daydream. "Any chance of a lift home, officer?" I ask my husband of three years innocently. Troy grins up at me, and moves closer so that he can press a soft kiss to my cheek.

"Well, I _am_ off duty, but I'm sure I can make an exception for you," he replies with a wink. Then he helps me with my things and takes my hand, leading me out of the building.

"So, how was your day?" he asks.

"It was good. Tiring though, I'm so glad it's the weekend!" I reply. "What about you? How was your day?"

Troy's eyes sparkle as he answers. "Great. It's so fulfilling knowing that you're making a difference, somehow. Do you know what I mean?" I nod, because I do. There is, of course, an element of that feeling in being a teacher. But I especially know what it means to him. Not long after we were married, Troy completed his training and became a full time police officer. And ever since then, he has come home every day with that added twinkle in his eye. After almost three years, he still loves his job. Seeing him so happy is something I will never take for granted. Then again, I don't think either of us take anything for granted anymore.

It still amazes me how different our lives are now, compared to a few years back. Everything leading up to our engagement and marriage was so out of the ordinary; and now here we are, leading normal lives. We go to work; we come home, have dinner and spend our evenings together just as any other married couple would.

You see, the way we met was...unconventional. I think that's the least dramatic way to describe it. A couple's first encounter is usually known to be quite basic, isn't it. Two people meet and fall in love, and although there may be some kind of interesting story there; it's nothing too surprising. By which I mean, nothing that causes anyone's jaws to drop. It was only when I met new people in the run up to our wedding, who asked me how I met Troy, that I actually realised the complexity of our story. These people thought they were asking a simple question; little did they know it would turn out to be a long story. Of course, I do shorten it sometimes, according to the person I'm telling it to.

The short version is this. I was out clubbing one night, in the middle of London, and I ended up on my own. My two best friends had abandoned me, so I ventured outside, feeling like a bit of a loner on my own in the club. But when I got outside I saw what appeared to be a fight going on. Only it wasn't exactly a fight, more one drunken guy throwing multiple punches at another. And then _another_, uninvolved man stepped in to help. But he ended up being attacked so badly for his interference that he nearly died. That man was Troy.

I try not to think about the fact that only one person stopped to help him. Literally every other witness at the scene disappeared the moment the attacker had fled. Except for me. Troy continues to remind me that I 'saved his life' that night. But I prefer to think that I simply did what I _thought _that anyone else would do. Mere hours later, I met his parents, Jack and Lucille, and found out all about Troy. And it was then that I knew, even before ever speaking to him, that I had to come back and see him. So I did. And it was the best decision I have ever made.

I realise that I seem to be describing the long version of this story. However, so much happened in our first year together that I just cannot condense.

Shortly after Troy had fully recovered, the police caught the man who had attacked him. We later discovered that our new relationship was to be used against us during the trial. So I made another decision. I told Troy that we should part ways until the court case ended. His solicitor had suggested it as a way of lessening the accusations that I might have been lying to protect Troy.

So we spent the next nine months apart. Completely apart. The only thing that kept us going were the letters we managed to send to each other through my mother. That, and the fact that once the whole ordeal was over, we could be together again and move on.

And finally, when the time came, that's just what we did.

"What are you thinking about over there?" asks Troy gently, and I shake my head as I realise I have slipped into another daydream on the drive home. I smile at him, so that he knows that there is nothing wrong.

"Oh, you know," I reply brightly. "Just us. Nothing too thought-provoking." He chuckles, and I let out a little laugh too. It's our little private joke. Anyone thinking over the aspects of our relationship would certainly call it thought-provoking. But despite the lengthy background of it, to us it is simple. We are just Troy and Gabriella. Two people who are just trying to live ordinary lives.

"That's alright then," he says with a grin as he reverses the car up onto the driveway of our house. We moved in two years ago as soon as we could afford a mortgage. It's our home, and I love it. We decorated it together, and it was the first thing we could really call ours - mine and Troy's. It's close to our jobs, while also being near enough so that we can still see our families on a regular basis.

"So," says Troy as we head indoors. "What do you fancy for dinner tonight?"

"Hmm," I muse as though it's an important decision. "I say...surprise me." Troy smiles and nods, then promptly heads into the kitchen, telling me to sit and relax while he cooks.

I must admit, though, that this is our usual routine. My culinary skills leave a lot to be desired, if I'm honest; so Troy is the main cook in our household. And I can't say that I ever feel the need to complain.

There is nothing that remarkable about us, really. Our story is longer than most, but the result is the same. We are, as I said before, just two ordinary people.

My name is Gabriella Bolton. Life has calmed down a lot since that cold night that changed my life some years ago. And I couldn't be happier with it.

**What did you think so far? It will be getting more interesting after this one ;)**

**Please leave me a Review so I know whether to carry on**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Reminders

**Hey everyone! Thanks for reviewing the first chapter, glad you all liked it. This chapter has a bit of everything: mainly humour mixed with a big bag of emotion. Enjoy! :)**

"Chad, let's face it. This is hopeless. Let's just give up," says Troy in all seriousness. He is trying to teach his friend some cooking skills. Chad finally decided to try and learn how to cook in order to surprise Taylor for their anniversary, which is coming up this week. Unfortunately, judging by the aroma of burnt offerings coming from our kitchen, it doesn't seem to be going well. I bet he's really wishing he'd paid attention back when their friend Zeke showed off his skills.

It is a Saturday night, and Chad arrived at ours about an hour ago for his 'cooking lesson'. Meanwhile, Taylor and I are going out for the evening with Erin and Kelly. I volunteered to drive tonight, so I am about to leave to pick the three of them up. Taylor and I have become really good friends over the last few years, and she also struck up a friendship with the girls, who are still living at the flat I used to share with them. The four of us try and have a night out together at least once a month, leaving Troy and Chad to have a 'lads' night. Of all the things those two could get up to tonight, though, I wasn't expecting it to be cooking.

Usually they end up going for a couple of drinks in the local pub, and then coming back to our place to watch the football. Chad has never managed to persuade Troy to stay out past eleven – he says clubbing just isn't his scene anymore. To be honest, I feel the same way. It's not that we're scared to be in that environment after what happened to Troy. It's just that we've changed. We're happy enough with quiet nights in most of the time. Even so, I'm almost certain the girls and I will end up in a club of some sort later on. The difference now is, I won't be drinking. I'm going to be there purely to socialise and, possibly, to have a dance if I'm feeling brave enough to embarrass myself!

"Troy, please, I need to be able to cook something, at least!" comes Chad's voice echoing through from the kitchen. I can hear Troy sighing loudly in response, and I roll my eyes and try not to laugh as I walk in to see what they're doing now.

Basically, my kitchen is a mess. And that may be an understatement.

"Okay guys, I'm leaving now. Try not to burn the house down will you?" I say, looking at Chad pointedly. But I can't help the smirk that forms on my lips. Now he lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Thanks for that Gabi, very funny. Troy, your wife's sense of humour is very disheartening," he replies sensitively.

Troy is laughing now. "Sorry, but she's not wrong there. Look, we can try this cooking thing again; but if at any point there is potential for a fire hazard, we're giving up," he says firmly.

Chad mumbles something that sounds like "fair enough," then grabs a nearby cloth and starts half-heartedly wiping the counter. I am tempted to tell him to 'put a bit of elbow-grease into it', but then I decide that he's suffered enough. Besides, chances are he'll be no closer to a master-chef title by the end of the evening. If I were Taylor, though, I think I'd at least be impressed that he put the effort in to try.

"Right well, I'll see you later. Have fun!" I say, giving Troy a quick kiss.

"See you later, Gab. Have a good time tonight, okay?" he replies, and I smile back.

Then I leave, wondering whether my poor kitchen will still be intact upon my return. But I suppose if that's all I can think of to worry about these days, then I'm one lucky girl.

_**.HSM.**_

We're all well on our way into Central London in the car, ready for a giggle, when suddenly Taylor pipes up. "So, what are those husbands of ours cooking back at yours, then?"

"What? You mean you know about it? Chad was supposed to be surprising you!" I exclaim in disbelief, while at the same time trying to concentrate on the road ahead. Taylor gives a little chuckle from the back seat.

"Oh come on, Gabi – this is _me_. Nothing gets past me," she answers. I give her a serious look via my rear-view mirror, and she relents. "Alright then, it might also have something to do with the fact that Chad tried to smuggle a chef's hat into the house the other day." We all burst out laughing at the image of Chad in a professional looking chef's hat. And at the thought of him even buying one. It probably wouldn't be so funny if he had ever actually cooked before in his life.

"Well, he was daft enough to leave the bag lying around," adds Taylor. Plus he's been dropping hints about my 'surprise' for the last couple of days. Not very subtle hints, either. Last night he even asked me what my favourite meal was. I told him that if he doesn't know the answer to that himself, we have a problem here." Everyone erupts into fresh giggles. I can just picture the poor guy's face as he got that answer, and then was still none the wiser on what is Taylor's favourite.

"Anyway, if he actually manages to pull this off, I'll play nice and pretend I wasn't expecting it, okay?" she says to appease me.

"Well you'd better," I reply jokingly. "Otherwise my kitchen will have suffered for nothing!"

When we arrive in town, I pull up outside our favourite bar. Sometimes we stay here for the whole evening rather than going onto a club. It means we have a chance of finding somewhere to sit down.

We don't go to _that_ club anymore – I just can't bring myself to be anywhere near that street, and I realised it after my last visit there. In theory, Troy and I have got over the trauma of that night. We are both happy, and content with our lives together. But every so often a reminder pops up that never fails to have an affect on us. The news will be reporting a similar story of an attack; or a drunken man that Troy must 'look after' as part of his job will be violent enough to scare him, even just for a second, before he makes himself get over it. The thing is, _I _may be able to avoid that street; but Troy cannot.

He may have been upgraded from his PCSO duties, but there are still those times where the police are required to reprimand the drunk and disorderly. He takes it all in his stride, though. And if he has a bad day, I remind him that he's only human. He's always going to feel something when faced with memories of, or similarities to his attack. But that doesn't make him any less of a good police officer. In fact, it makes him all the more amazing at what he does. He will always do his best to help someone in trouble, because he has been the victim before.

"Quick, there's a table over there!" calls out Erin from behind me as we walk into the bar. The four of us make a dash for the area she is pointing towards, and manage to secure ourselves seats. Then Erin and Kelly offer to get us all a round of drinks. Taylor and I are surprised when they return within just a few minutes with four glasses – three filled with wine, and one with lemonade and lime for me. There is usually a queue about a mile long at the bar.

For the next few hours, we laugh and chat about anything and everything. Erin has been seeing someone for the past year and a half, and she reveals that he has asked her to move in with him. "He what?" exclaims Kelly. "When was this, and why didn't you tell me?"

"It was only last night, Kel. I was just waiting to tell you all together, because I can't decide," says Erin. I think she is just nervous really. I never saw her this happy when she was with Nick – a.k.a. her ex. Looking at her now, I can tell how happy she is.

"You should go for it, Erin," tell her. "If you're happy, and it's what you want, then do it."

"Gabi's right," agrees Kelly. Erin looks at her anxiously, but Kelly smiles at her. "Don't worry about me, silly. Maybe I'll just get a smaller flat. You know, until my own Mr Right comes along!"

"Well then, I guess it's decided. I'm moving out!" We all clink our glasses together in celebration. But suddenly our cheers die out when we hear yelling. And it's coming from a few feet away. Two men are having a row. A very loud, public row. I'm just about to suggest that we all relocate to get away from this, when one of the men's voice raises even more. And before we can even attempt to move, he literally shoves his 'friend' into our table.

The man knocks into me and then lands on the floor in a heap. But while he gets up and shakes himself off without so much as glancing in our direction; I am frozen with fear. I'm not injured – the guy barely nudged me. But I feel like I've gone back to that night. I can only look on in horror as the two men start viciously punching and pushing each other. A barman comes rushing over to break up the fight, and only then do I turn away and look back at my friends. They are all staring at me, worry evident in their eyes.

"Gabi? Are you okay?" asks Taylor. Erin puts an arm around me in reassurance. "It's alright Gabs, the barman's put a stop to it – look," she adds.

"I...I'm fine," I manage to choke out, although I'm sure my voice is shaking. I'm so not fine. At all. But I'm the designated driver. I have to calm myself down.

I look over to see that the two men are being escorted outside. "I'll be back in a bit. Don't worry about me, I just need a few minutes and I'll be okay," I say, hoping my friends don't follow me to the ladies'. Thankfully they stay where they are; I think they sense that I just need to be alone for a minute.

I walk into a cubicle, tell myself to get a grip, and then take a deep breath. When I emerge I find three concerned faces waiting for me. "Come on girls, let's call it a night," says Erin. The other two nod along.

"No, don't be daft, it's fine. I don't want to be a killjoy," I say in protest, but Taylor holds up a hand.

"Gabi, you are being no such thing," she tells me. "We understand. Perhaps not as much as we would if we'd been through what you and Troy have - but we do get it. Besides, it's after midnight anyway. And I'm sure it's about time we checked on those men of ours!"

I don't say anything else. I simply nod gratefully as we head out and then make our way outside, towards my car. "Forget the men," adds Kelly. "I'd still be worried about that kitchen of yours!"

I drop Erin and Kelly home, and then, upon pulling up at Taylor's, we see that Chad is home already. Despite my anxiety over the end of the evening, curiosity is still lurking over whether he learnt any worthwhile cooking skills tonight. I know Taylor is wondering the same thing as we say good night. But as I continue the drive home alone, thoughts of that fight in the bar plague me. I know that drunken fights between mates happen all the time. And I knew that before I witnessed what happened to Troy. But I just can't switch my brain off to it like I could before. It could only have taken one punch too many, or an extra blow to the head, and history could have repeated itself right in front of my eyes.

The only person that will truly understand what I'm feeling right now is Troy. But of course, he is also the only one I need right now.

When I walk inside, the lights are still on. I walk through to the kitchen, and the sight I am greeted with is a very hot and bothered looking Troy. He is on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. But my brain can't even comprehend what that is all about. I am too busy trying not to burst into tears.

Troy looks up and smiles at me sheepishly. "It...might be best not to ask how this happened," he says as he stands up, abandoning his frantic cleaning to give me a kiss.

"Gabi?" he adds, looking worried. "Baby, what is it? You're as white as a sheet. Are you okay?"

At that, I cannot hold it in any longer. I wanted to be brave; but now here I am, sobbing in front of my poor bewildered husband, in the middle of our kitchen. I fall into Troy's arms and he catches me with ease, holding me tight and softly stroking my hair. "Oh baby," he whispers, sounding close to tears himself now. "Please don't cry. Please."

I let him lead me to the sofa, where he sits down and gently pulls me into his lap, rocking me until my tears subside. "Sweetheart, talk to me. What happened tonight?" he asks, and I turn in his arms to look at him.

"There was a fight at the bar and this guy knocked into me. I..." Before I can continue, Troy interrupts.

"Someone hurt you?" he asks, the horror I felt earlier on now etched on his own face. "Where? Are you..."

"No no, I'm okay, it's not that. The guy was shoved right into our table by another man, but he hardly even scraped me. It was just...it was horrible. I kept thinking it was going to happen again and I..." I break off from my rambling, feeling another sob about to overcome me. "It was like I was back on that street again, watching it happen to you." The very thought of it almost traumatises me all over again and I close my eyes. I don't know how it is that I can just unravel so rapidly in one night.

"Hey, hey look at me," says Troy, cupping my face in his hands. "Gabi, I need you to look at me and remember something." I open my eyes and look into those of my husband as he speaks, softly and clearly.

"I'm right here," he tells me, stroking my cheek. "It's just you and me now. We'll never be able to forget what happened and what we went through, but we're never going to be the only ones who went through it, either. I can't promise you that everything about this world is perfect; but I can promise you this. You will never have to go through anything on your own."

That's all I need to hear. It's not the first time one of us has broken down over painful reminders, and I'm sure it won't be the last. But as unpredictable as this world is; we'll always have each other.

We sit together for ages, not quite ready for sleep yet. Resting my head on Troy's shoulder, I am now calm and relaxed; and I know I'll be okay.

After an hour, I suddenly remember the kitchen again. "Troy, what exactly were you and Chad cooking earlier?"

"Oh God," he groans, getting up to return to his cleaning duties. "Just trust me when I say, it was completely inedible..."

**What did you think? As you can gather, it's pretty obvious that Troy and Gabriella's lives are really anything but simple. The attack will always affect them somehow.**

**Please Review!**


	3. Newbie

**Hey readers! Thanks again for the reviews. I'm glad that some of you are reading this having just discovered and read _TIB_; thanks for giving this a go too! Also thanks to those of you who have been reviewing my stories for a while now :) Here is chapter three. Enjoy!**

I am sitting in the staff room before the first lesson of the day, sipping my coffee whilst going over my lesson plan for the morning. I am hoping that the coffee will make me feel more alert, as I woke up feeling very sluggish. Over the weekend I felt as though I had the flu or something, I was so run-down. Then again, it has been so busy at school that I've hardly had a chance to relax. I spent most of Saturday attempting to finish all of my marking, but by Sunday Troy had made me rest, insisting that I let him look after me.

He's always like that when I'm not well, and I'm lucky to have someone like him. Lately, though, Troy has been on the alert for anything that is bothering me. I think he worries about me more since that night I came home and broke down. But I constantly assure him that he was right: we'll never be able to forget what happened to him; but as long as we have each other, I'll be fine. We both will.

Tearing my eyes away from my lesson plan, I glance at my watch, seeing that I only have five minutes before the start of the lesson. So I slowly stand up, draining the rest of my drink. Everyone else has already left the room, I now realise as I look around me. But suddenly, before I can make a move, the headteacher, Rebecca, comes in – with a young man following closely behind.

"Morning, Gabriella," she says warmly, giving me a smile. Rebecca is one of the nicest people I could ever have hoped to work for. She is brilliant at her job, too. I'm not sure how she juggles her responsibilities here with being a single mother of her two girls, but she does it very well. The girls attend the school too, and you only have to watch them with Rebecca to see what a great mother she is. Luckily for her, they are as good as gold, so she doesn't have to mix much of her discipline from home into their school-lives.

"Morning, Rebecca," I reply cheerfully, despite how lethargic I'm feeling. Usually I would add a little more to my greeting, but I'm awkwardly aware of the man who is now standing silently beside her.

"Ah," she says, as if she has just remembered why she came up to me in the first place. "This is Andrew Davis. Andrew, this is Gabriella Bolton, she teaches English here too. Gabriella, Andrew has just qualified from his teacher training, and he's going to be our newest English teacher. I thought that since you were a new recruit not so long ago, you might be able to give him a bit of advice?" I smile kindly at Andrew, and nod willingly at Rebecca. The school has needed a second teacher for the subject for a few months now, ever since the last one left. It's funny that Rebecca still thinks of my starting here as recent – it has been four and a half years. But then again, Andrew is the first 'newbie' to be taken on here since my own arrival.

"I also wondered how you would feel about Andrew sitting in on a few of your lessons this morning, before he takes his first class this afternoon? Would that be alright with you?" she adds. I look between the both of them, seeing first the face of a nervous young man; and then an encouraging smile from my superior. I was new once, and it was incredibly nerve-wracking – even with all the qualifications under my belt. I'm not denying that I may be a bit self-conscious at having someone observe my teaching skills; but I can hardly refuse this request, can I?

"Of course," I reply, smiling brightly. Right on cue, the bell rings. "Well, my first lesson is just down the hall – guess we'd better get going!" Andrew gives me a grateful look and follows me out of the staff room. Rebecca mouths her thanks to me and then leaves us to it.

"So," I say as we approach the classroom, where only a handful of pupils are waiting so far. "Are you looking forward to getting stuck in with this teaching thing? I've only been doing it for a few years, but I love it."

Andrew looks almost blank for a moment, then offers me a half smile. He must really be anxious, bless him. "Yeah, I'm sure once I get the hang of it, it'll be great," he answers. I don't really know what to make of his response. Is he saying that he's not entirely sure of his abilities yet? Or is he simply referring to his new environment, and being put in charge of a group of kids?

I have no more time to ponder this as we take our places at the front of the room, as the rest of my class finally arrive. "You're a bit late, guys!" I say, firmly but not in a tone that implies it's the end of the world. They all know I'm being fair here, so they all chant, "yeah, sorry Miss!"

I introduce Andrew as a new teacher, and then let everyone know that he will be sitting in on the lesson. Then he takes a seat right at the back of the room, ready to watch and listen as I begin teaching. He isn't taking notes or anything – he just sits quietly, staring straight ahead. I assume this is just his way of taking it all in. So I continue the lesson, which the kids actually seem to be interested in for once. It is a good topic, though, and it manages to help me feel better as I am enjoying the lesson too.

The time flies by, and at the end I look towards the back to see that Andrew hasn't really moved from his original pose. And yet, once all of my pupils have left the room, he walks over and begins to talk eagerly, in a way that he wasn't doing earlier on.

"Thanks so much for letting me sit in this morning, Gabriella," he says brightly. "It's been a real help so far!" Perhaps he's just starting to come out of his shell now. I tell him he's more than welcome, then lead him towards my next lesson.

On the way, I push aside my fatigue, which has cropped up again during the gap between classes. It's going to be a long day. But at least I'll be going home today with the knowledge that I've helped someone out in their new career.

_**.HSM.**_

Troy and I have just finished eating dinner and are sitting comfortably together, chatting about our days. Without warning, I let out an involuntary yawn.

"Either you're exhausted, or I'm boring you!" says Troy with a chuckle. I let out a giggle.

"It's definitely the first one, don't worry," I reply, snuggling into him.

"How are you feeling, apart from that? Do you want me to take you upstairs for a lie-down?" he asks softly. I look up at him with a smile.

"I'm okay Troy, really. But I might be persuaded to go upstairs, if you come and lie down with me," I tell him with a little wink that makes him laugh again. But there is no hidden innuendo in my remark; tonight I'm so tired that all I want to do is fall asleep in my husband's arms. Maybe that sounds boring, but to me it sounds perfect.

"Come on then beautiful, let me carry you up," says Troy tenderly. I gasp in happy surprise as he suddenly whisks me up off my feet, and then brings me upstairs to our bedroom.

We lie down together, and Troy wraps his arms around me. This is what I've looked forward to all day. It's something that comes with the notion that we'll always have each other. Ever since the moment that we were reunited during the trial of Troy's attacker, I have felt safe in the knowledge that as long as I can end the day by being in Troy's arms, I will always be happy when I wake up.

With every long day, and any hurdle we face in the future; that will always carry me through.

**Please click on that little Review button and keep letting me know what you think! It's always great to find out different readers' points of view, as everyone reads into things in different ways. **

**Thanks for reading ;)**


	4. Dreaming?

**Well, in honour of the Royal Wedding tomorrow, here is a special chapter for you all! Hope you enjoy it :)**

Exhaustion and flu-like symptoms have developed into waves of nausea and sometimes even actual sickness. The fatigue has also become even more frequent, which is why I am taking the afternoon off to go to the doctor. Andrew is covering my lessons – he was very eager to help today. He seems to flit between that attitude and another, completely different one; if you can even call it an attitude. He just appears...vacant when he's not reverting to overly enthusiastic. Who am I to judge, though. I hardly even know him.

Troy was planning to come to my appointment too, even if it meant taking time off work himself. But I insisted that I would be fine – I didn't want both of us to have to leave work early. I actually had to assure him several times that I will call him if I need him, until finally he relented.

Now that I'm sitting here in the waiting room alone, though, I'm cursing myself for not agreeing to let him come with me. I seem to have a tendency to try and cope alone at the most ridiculous times. Just like that first day of the trial when I refused the support of my friends, and even that of my mother. I realised I had been naïve then; and I think I've gone and done it again.

Oh God, I hate doctors' surgeries. Is it too late to call Troy?

"Gabriella Bolton?" comes a voice in the doorway. Okay, it is too late. I guess it's time to find out what's wrong with me.

_**.HSM.**_

Wow. So it turns out there's nothing wrong with me at all. But there's something very _right_ with me. I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier. Now that I know exactly what it is, I realise that it should have been obvious. It's only a surprise because Troy and I have both been distracted lately, after what happened on that recent night out. Before that happened, we had actually been planning this next step in our future for a while.

I can't wait to get home and tell him. When I arrive home I have to stop myself from just opening the door and shouting my news for all to hear. But when I spot my husband sitting quietly on the sofa, looking pale and distracted; I put my excitement on hold for the moment.

"Troy? Hey, Troy what is it? What's wrong?" I breathe out in a rush as I go to sit down beside him. He turns to look at me and lets out a shaky breath. In his eyes, I can see the same fear and anxiety that plagued him in the weeks and months following his attack. Something has happened, and clearly it has knocked him for six.

Then he appears to collect himself, and takes my hand gently in his own. "Sorry, baby," he says softly. "I didn't mean to scare you. Is everything okay with you?"

"I'm perfectly fine Troy, I promise. But please tell me what's happened, you're as white as a sheet!" I reply, stroking the side of his face.

He pauses for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath. "I got home earlier than usual today, and the phone was ringing when I walked in the door. It was the police. They were calling to let me know – let _us _know – that Brooks is trying to appeal his sentence."

I cannot even comprehend this statement. This is immoral. It's unjust. That man really thinks that he has the right to question his conviction?

"What!" I exclaim loudly, then remind myself that I now have a very good reason to keep my blood pressure in check. "I don't...I don't understand how he can do this anyway," I say slowly. "I thought that when he was sentenced, it was made clear that he would have to serve fifteen years before he could even be _considered_ for a release."

"Apparently the regulations have changed for him due to good behaviour, and he has been allowed to put in a request," Troy replies. It almost makes me laugh to hear this. It's a bit late to be trying good behaviour now.

"So what...what does this mean?" I ask next. I'm not sure either of us could handle having everything brought up again like this. We went to court, saw justice served and then put it behind us as best we could. Why should we have to go through it all again? Why should Troy have to face it again?

"It means that if the appeal request is accepted, there might be a hearing, or even a retrial," he answers quietly. And I don't need to ask anything else. I know now that if Brooks _is_ allowed to appeal his conviction, then no doubt we _will _have to relive everything.

I'm just sitting there, in utter shock at the very thought of it. I don't even know what to say to my husband, who must be feeling even worse than I am right now.

Troy clears his throat to speak again. "Apparently we just have to wait now. We'll get a phone call to find out whether the appeal will go through or not; but we might not hear about it for a while."

That's when something clicks with me. We spent the first year of our relationship constantly waiting. _Waiting_ for the police to catch Troy's attacker. _Waiting_ for the call to inform us of the trial date. And what was worse; _waiting_ nine months not only for the trial – but also to see each other again.

Now we're supposed to play the waiting game _again_.

I'm not going to let our lives be dictated by what Brooks did. He can do his best to appeal his sentence; but he can't break us. We proved that the last time.

Today there is even more reason to stay strong in the face of this bombshell.

"Troy?" I say softly, and he looks at me with such vulnerability in his eyes. "Troy, that man shouldn't have a chance to even ask for an appeal. But just because he _did _get the chance, that does not mean anyone is going to say yes to him. Nobody in their right mind would think that he deserves to be free after what he did."

He smiles softly at my words, knowing that I could be right and that we could be worrying over nothing. But I can still see that the other possibility is running through his mind. "It's just that...if they let him ask for an appeal based on good behaviour, then they might let him out because of it too," he whispers.

"They might. But they'd be crazy to do that. You know what, though? We shouldn't have to wait around to find out. We shouldn't have to waste our energy on worrying about it. We have more important things to focus on," I reply, strength rising inside me with every word. I think I know where it's coming from, too.

Immediately, Troy pulls me to him and places a few kisses in my hair. It's as if he has just been brought out of a dark cloud. I can feel him smiling down on me even though I can't see his face.

"You're right. I've just realised that I've spent the last half an hour thinking about the worst moments of everything that happened back then. I let myself forget about the best thing that came out of it. You. Us," he says.

His voice rings of so much pride, and a happy tear slips down my cheek at the idea that I am about to add to it. I turn around to look him in the eyes and take a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't notice the tear before I get this out.

"Exactly," I reply with a smile. "You and me, and our own little family." I pause and wait for my comment to sink in a little. As it does, Troy's eyes begin to shine and his mouth drops open. His pale face is completely gone now.

"Say that again," he responds calmly, as though he needs to check my meaning.

"Our family, Troy. Yours and mine. We're going to have a baby," I tell him, placing both of his hands on my stomach. "I've just done the test at the doctors. I'm two and a half months pregnant!"

And there it is. The widest grin imaginable, mixed with my favourite smile. In the next second, he is leaning in and kissing me. Gently, tenderly and passionately all in one go. I don't ever want to let go of this moment, but eventually we have to pull apart.

"I love you so much," whispers Troy as his arms wrap around me and he presses soft kisses to the side of my head, over and over again. "You and our baby. More than anything. Nothing else matters, okay?"

I am in a state of pure bliss. I can only nod at him, unable to wipe the smile from my face. Then I am finally able to form a coherent sentence again. "I love you too," I whisper back.

As I sit comfortably in his arms, Troy leans closer to whisper something in my ear. "Stuff waiting for that phone call. I don't care anymore. Like you said, we've got something much more important to focus on now. I can't wait to spend the next six and a half months waiting with you, Mrs Bolton."

He gently cradles my stomach again, and I can see the tears in his eyes as he stays in that position for ages. I think he is still trying to comprehend the fact that our baby is growing inside me. Actually, even I am still trying to grasp that concept. But it's an amazing feeling.

I'm going to be a mother. And now I have yet another reason to be thankful that Troy and I came into each other's lives that night.

"Hey," he says softly, and I look up to see that while I have been lost in thought, Troy has stood up from his place by my side. Then I realise he is turning on the CD player. After a minute, our favourite song is echoing through the living room.

"Dance with me?" he asks, holding out his hand as I rise from the sofa to join him. He pulls me into his arms and I rest my head on his shoulder, letting him sway me gently in time to the music.

_When my, world is falling apart,_

_When there's no, light to break up the dark,_

_That's when I, I, I look at you..._

Troy told me once that the lyrics remind him of how he was able to bounce back from the most traumatic time of his life. I already loved the song, but when he heard it, it was Troy who suggested we use it for our first dance after our wedding.

"_Don't you know, you're beautiful..."_

Troy usually makes a big show of singing that part to me around the house, deliberately off-key, making me laugh. But today the words are sung softly, melodiously as he looks into my eyes.

_You, appear, just like a dream to me..._

"This isn't a dream, is it?" he whispers as the song ends, and I let out a giggle and shake my head.

"If it is, it's one hell of a good one!" I reply with a grin, returning my head to rest on Troy's shoulder.

**Well done to **yogaluva **who correctly guessed Gabriella's condition! I'd had this planned from the start and the mentioning of the appeal was always going to tie in with it. Thanks as usual to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story :)**

**The song is **When I Look At You **by **Miley Cyrus

**Please Review!**


	5. Unknowing

**Hi everyone! Thanks again for following and reviewing. Did you all see the royal wedding last week? I know from the news that people were watching all over the world! It was utterly amazing to watch and I can't say enough about it. Seeing real love and romance live before your eyes certainly outranks anything I've ever seen on TV before. I loved the part where they got into the carriage and were clearly talking about how happy they were! Anyway, I really could ramble on about this all day, but on with the story! Chapter five for you, enjoy :)**

"That's our baby, Gabi," whispers Troy as he clutches my hand, his eyes transfixed on the screen in front of us. We are at the hospital for my twelve week scan - our first chance to see a glimpse of the baby. We have also chosen this day to go and visit Troy's parents and tell them the news. I told my own mother last night, who was thrilled. But telling Jack and Lucille is something that I've been looking forward to even more. I know how much this is going to mean to them, especially after coming so close to losing their son.

"Wow," I can't help but breathe out in response as I stare at the image on the screen. There's a tiny person being formed inside me, and I don't think I really believed it was actually real until this moment. Troy and I have been walking around on cloud nine for the past two weeks with our little secret. There has not been any word on Brooks' appeal yet, but neither of us are letting the subject of it ruin our happiness.

"Would you like a scan photo?" says the ultrasound technician as she walks back into the room after giving us some time alone. Troy and I both nod keenly as we finally tear our eyes away from the screen. "Yes please," he answers for us. "Actually, could we have more than one copy?" The lady smiles back at us and nods. And when I turn to look at Troy, I know he is thinking exactly the same thing I am. About the way we are going to give his mum and dad the good news...

_**.HSM.**_

"Troy, Gabi, what a nice surprise! What brings you two here on a Friday afternoon? I thought you'd have better things to do!"

I laugh at Lucille's reaction as she lets us into the house, and give her a hug in greeting. "Well, actually, we came to see you for a very special reason today. I hope you don't mind us just turning up like this," I say as she hugs Troy, too.

"Oh don't be silly, of course we don't mind! Especially not now, when I can tell you are both excited about something," she replies with a wink as we follow her into the lounge, where Jack is sitting. He looks up and smiles warmly at Troy and I.

"Ah, Troy and Gabriella! I thought we weren't seeing you until Sunday lunch?" he asks, looking between us and his wife.

"They have something 'special' to say to us, Jack," Lucille chips in to answer his question, before sitting down on the edge of Jack's chair and patting the sofa next to her in invitation. "Come on then you two, spill the beans!" I look at Troy and even he is chuckling at his mother's enthusiasm. Then we sit next to her and he takes hold of my hand. We have already discussed how we are going to tell them, so Troy starts talking first while I take one of the scan photos out of my bag. I carefully hide it in my lap until the right moment approaches.

"Well," Troy is saying, unable to hide his proud smile. "We have a little present for you. Both of you."

I turn the photo around and slowly hand it to Lucille, who looks perplexed for a moment as she holds it up in front of her and Jack. And as their confused faces turn into smiles of recognition, I know that this has to be the best gift we could ever have given them. I find myself having a sudden image of two heartbroken parents, who faced the prospect of having to say goodbye to their son in the hospital. Two parents who, despite their devastation and their worry, welcomed me with open arms that night. Looking at them now, in this moment – it fills me with even more happiness.

Lucille jumps straight out of her seat and envelopes Troy and I into a hug. "Is this really what I think it is?" she exclaims in delight. I look over at Jack, who is grinning as he also makes his way over to us, although in a slightly less energetic fashion than his wife.

"It's exactly what you think it is, yes," replies Troy as his mother pulls back to look at us again. "Mum, Dad – you're going to be grandparents!"

If I thought their initial reactions were a sight to behold; the looks on their faces now are even better. I think hearing the word 'grandparents' has stunned them into silence. Lucille wipes her eyes, and then Jack surprises us all by rushing towards us himself to give Troy a hug, and me a kiss on the cheek.

"So I'm going to be a Grandad, eh?" he says softly, wrapping an arm around his wife.

"I can't believe it, this is amazing!" adds Lucille. "When did you find out?"

"Only a couple of weeks ago. Today was our first scan. I'm three months along!" I tell them with a smile.

As we all chat excitedly, Troy wraps an arm around me, our hands still linked. And sometime later, as we end up staying for dinner, he asks me a question in nothing more than a soft whisper. "Are you happy?"

I turn to look at him curiously. "Deliriously happy," I whisper back truthfully. "Are you?"

"I think, in fact, I am quite possibly the happiest man alive right now," he tells me, planting a quick kiss on my lips.

Well, he would have to go and top my answer with a better one, wouldn't he? But then again, having a man who isn't afraid to show how he feels is definitely nothing to complain about!

_**.HSM.**_

It's the strangest thing to think that my morning sickness has been occurring mainly at night. Why give it that name? In the mornings I have been feeling fine. Actually, I have been feeling great. But about half an hour after we got back from seeing Troy's parents, I began to feel nauseous. So, for the best part of an hour, poor Troy has been comforting me through these on-off bouts of sickness.

I finally sit up once again in my spot on the bathroom floor, hoping that there is nothing left inside my body for me to heave. Surely now that I've reached the third month of pregnancy, these waves of nausea will be stopping soon? "How are you feeling now, sweetheart?" asks Troy as he gently rubs my back.

"Mmm, okay now, I think. That feels good, Troy. Keep rubbing my back like that for a minute?" I reply softly. His response is simply to drop a kiss on the top of my head as he continues to run his hands along my back in soothing circular motions.

Here is another strange phenomenon: food cravings. Not only for odd foods; at strange times of night. But also surprisingly soon after feeling so sick.

"Are you hungry?" asks Troy as we return to the lounge to watch television some fifteen minutes later.

"Bizarrely enough, yes I am," I say. "What time is it?"

"Just after midnight," he replies. "Why, did you want something from the shop? I'm pretty sure the one round the corner is open until one."

"Oh no, don't be daft, I can get it tomorrow at the supermarket! It really doesn't matter," I tell him quickly, even though my mouth is actually watering at the thought of a certain kind of food right now.

"What are you craving?" asks Troy with a chuckle, and I relent.

"Coconut flavoured ice-cream – I really don't know why, though. But really, just forget about it."

"Hey you, dealing with sickness and cravings at all times of the night is my job as the husband and the daddy. I'll go down to the shop and get you some ice-cream – it won't take me five minutes," he tells me, getting up to find his coat.

"You're not walking, are you? I'll come with you," I say hurriedly, feeling anxious now.

"I'll be fine, Gabi, don't worry. I know you get a bit scared about me going out alone at this time of night because of what happened, but I'll be okay, I promise you. If it will make you feel better though, I'll take the car." I nod as he picks up his keys.

"Okay okay. But let me come with you anyway, I need some fresh air now," I explain. So he too relents, finds my coat and leads me outside.

Minutes later, I am waiting patiently in the car while Troy is in the shop. Suddenly I spot a dark figure walking on the pavement, on my left. As the person draws nearer, I realise that it is Andrew, from school. I haven't seen him there this week because apparently he's been off sick – which looks to have been a lie, as he looks perfectly fine to me. In fact, he looks more...creepy than anything else. And as he walks slowly past our car, a cold shiver goes through me that I wasn't expecting. I'm hoping more than anything that he doesn't spot me, but I don't know why.

Thankfully he doesn't even glance in my direction, and soon he has disappeared from view altogether. I can't explain why it is that I'm feeling so uneasy about this man. I knew there was something a bit odd about him, but just now he looked as though he was someone I should be wary of. Yet I have no idea why. At work he is still only ever one of two things when he's around me: very friendly, or completely non-responsive.

I try to forget my concerns for the time being when I see Troy emerging from the shop, carrier bag in hand. Within seconds he is sitting back in the driver's seat, looking at me with a frown. "Gabi? You've turned pale, what's wrong?" he asks, worry showing in his voice.

I know I could just say it's nothing; I haven't got a clue why I'm so spooked in the first place. But Troy and I tell each other everything, and maybe he'll be able to reassure me – _hopefully_ that I'm just being a bit paranoid. "Oh, erm it's...it's probably nothing," I say, putting on a light smile. "But you remember that guy from work I was telling you about? The new English teacher?" Troy nods, obviously wondering what this has to do with anything at this time of night.

"Well he just walked past here a few minutes ago. He didn't see me, but he looked...creepy. Maybe I'm just being silly, maybe it's the hormones," I tell him with a laugh. "But he behaves quite strangely at the school, and I don't know whether it's only around me, or what." I've already told Troy about the way Andrew acts at work, and so far we can only concede that he's simply a bit of an oddball. It sounds a harsh description, but then what would you think if it were you?

"But he hasn't hurt you or done anything to upset you?" Troy asks, as if just needing to make sure.

"No, nothing at all," I assure him. "But when he walked by just then, I got the shivers. It honestly feels like there's something I'm missing here; or at least that we should be cautious. But I don't know why. It's the same feeling I had right before we found out what was going to happen at the trial – you know, before you told me that we were going to be hounded in court?"

Troy is nodding his head slowly, but he looked utterly puzzled. After a few minutes of silence, in which I suppose he is thinking all this over, he finally speaks again.

"I don't know what we can do other than try and find out more about him. Why don't we see if we can look him up somehow. But not now, we'll start tomorrow. Let's get home to bed, we've had a long day and I bet you're exhausted. Are you alright now, though?" He brushes my hair away from my face to look me in the eye, and I smile genuinely.

"I'm fine now, I promise," I reply. "Even though half of me was actually hoping I was just being a bit paranoid; I'm really glad you believe me. Your idea sounds like a good plan to me. Come on then, Daddy-to-be, let's go home. I hope my ice-cream holds up in there!" Troy chuckles as I gesture towards the carrier bag that he is still holding.

And so off we go again, and we are back home within minutes. One look at Troy's calm, yet concerned face once I had told him of my anxieties reminded me that I will always be safe with him at the end of the day. This isn't like last time, where that feeling of dread resulted in a long separation. This time we are facing all obstacles together.

Shame we even have to consider there being any obstacles in the way at all, though.

**What do you think? **

**Please Review, thanks!**


	6. Trapped

**Thanks for the reviews! Also, I'm glad you all liked my one shot _Making it Last_. Thanks for the great response to that too :) Enjoy chapter six!**

It's Monday morning, and there's no sign of Andrew at school yet. I'm assuming that he has called in 'sick' again, which actually makes things easier for me – I've just spent all weekend trying to work out why I got so scared when I saw him.

But I still don't know what to think. Troy and I looked through the phone book, knowing that sometimes a person's name is listed alongside their spouse. But there was no such name in there, so we could only fathom that he keeps his phone number anonymous. After all, ours isn't listed either. In the end we even typed Andrew's name into google – which was, again, unsuccessful. Obviously we realise that most people aren't able to be found via google; but it was a last resort. He doesn't appear to exist on any social networking sites, either.

Finally I decided that I just have to let this go for now. I'm still a bit disturbed by the man, but he hasn't even _done _anything besides act strangely and look creepy. It's not as though we can do anything about him anyway. Troy was a bit reluctant to brush away my worries, because of how shaken up I was. But I promised him that I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behaviour, and that I won't ever take any risks by being in Andrew's company alone.

I have just finished my second lesson of the day, and now have some free time before lunch. The class I would usually be teaching now are on a day trip for the purpose of another subject, so it's a chance for me to catch up on some marking. I'm just heading to the library on the next floor when my phone rings. It's Erin, and I answer with a smile. "Hey!"

"Hey, Gabs. How are you? I haven't spoken to you in a few days," comes her cheerful voice down the line.

"I'm fine, how are you?" I reply brightly. I haven't told any of the girls about Andrew yet. There may not even be any point saying anything to them.

"I'm great! Listen, do you fancy meeting for lunch? We could go to that café down the road, as it's not far from either of us," she suggests.

"Sounds good! I'll be on my lunch break in an hour, does that suit you?"

"Yeah that suits me fine, so I'll meet you there?" asks Erin.

"Okay, see you soon!" I answer, then end the call just as I reach the library doors. But before I can go in, I notice that I've had a text message. It's from Troy. I did tell him that I had a free period at this time, come to think of it.

_'Hey Gabi, everything okay today?I know I'm overprotective, but I can't help but worry about you. T. xxx'_

I laugh to myself at his choice of words, and type out a quick reply.

_'Everything's fine, don't worry! (Andrew's not even in today). Hope you're having a good day. Off out for lunch with Erin in a bit. xxx'_

Troy sends a reply saying that work is fine with him too, and then tells me to enjoy my lunch. I put my phone away and finally make it into the library, ready to get some work done until I go and meet Erin. Lunch can't come soon enough, I realise as I sit down. I'm absolutely starving!

_**.HSM.**_

"I've got something to tell you, and then something to ask you," says Erin as soon as we've ordered our food.

"Ooh, come on then, hurry up and tell me!" I reply straight away. I've had something I've been wanting to ask her too, but it can wait – she seems really excited about something. I'm thinking this is to do with her and Simon – her boyfriend, who she has been living with for the past couple of months now.

"Well, I was going to phone you and tell you last night, but I really wanted to do this in person. I'm getting married!"

"Oh my God!" I squeal. "That's amazing! I'm so happy for you, Erin!" I get up to give her a hug.

"Thanks, I'm really happy too! Simon cooked me dinner last night and when he brought out the dessert, he suddenly got down on one knee. I couldn't believe it!" she gushes, holding out her hand and showing me her gorgeous diamond ring.

"I bet you couldn't! And that ring is fabulous, too," I reply, eventually calming down enough to go back to my seat.

"We haven't set a date yet, but I want you and Kelly to be bridesmaids. I'm going to ask Taylor too," she tells me. "But I also wanted to ask you if you'd be my _head_ bridesmaid. You know, the maid of honour?"

She's just absolutely made my day. I only hope she waits until I've had the baby, so that I can fit into a decent sized dress! "Oh Erin, of course I will!" I exclaim. She beams back at me. The two of us have always been the closest – we met in the first year of college, and it was only when we got to uni that we met and made friends with Kelly. Erin and I so similar, but in the best possible ways. And it is for those reasons that I am about to ask _her_ a very special question, too.

"Actually, I have a question for you, too," I begin, trying not to give anything away by the look on my face.

"You do? What is it?" she says, her eyebrows raising in curiosity.

"I was wondering whether you'd like to be a godmother in, oh, about five months?"

I honestly don't think I've ever heard such an excited squeal in my life before. I can't even imagine what Erin must have sounded like when she heard Simon's proposal!

"Me, really? Oh Gabs, yes please!" is what she says when she has finished reacting. Now it is my turn to beam. Some time soon, Troy is going to ask Chad to be the godfather, and then we'll be all set. The next stage will be finding out whether we're having a boy or a girl!

As if she has just read my mind, Erin adds, "You have to tell me the minute you know what you're having, so I can start buying my godchild some presents!"

"I will, I will," I promise with a grin. "But anyway, come on, let's toast your engagement first!" I tell her as our drinks of lemonade turn up and we promptly clink glasses with happy giggles.

I could almost forget that I ever had a worry, what with this eventful lunch. It's nice to have some good shocks livening up the day for a change.

_**.HSM.**_

I remain in a great mood for the rest of the day when I return to school after lunch. By the time my last lesson is over, though, I am still glad to be going home. These long school days are even more exhausting when you're carrying an extra person around with you.

I head out of my classroom, towards the building's exit. But as I turn the handle of the school doors, I'm confused to find that they won't open. I know for a fact that the school doesn't close for the night until five o'clock, because there are several after school clubs that run after lessons. So there's no logical reason as to why I seem to be locked in.

I try the door again and again, but it just won't budge. I decide not to panic, and to just find someone to help me. I can't be the only one left in the building already!

So I turn around, one hand supporting my back, which has started to ache. Then I almost jump out of my skin as I come face to face with the most contorted and twisted features I have ever seen. The only word I can think of in this moment to describe the man standing in front of me is 'evil'.

And then, suddenly, I realise exactly who he must be.

**Sorry, time for a cliffhanger! As ever, Please Review guys!**

**Thanks**


	7. Darkness

**Hey all, here I am with an afternoon update – makes a change because I'm usually writing late at night! Thanks for the reviews, and welcome to new readers :) Enjoy chapter seven...**

It's the eyes that are familiar to me. I know exactly who they remind me of; but I also know that it _can't_ be that person. I think I would know instinctively if it were him. I would have known a while ago. Because the person facing me now is Andrew – only I'm almost certain that's not his real name.

He's a Brooks. I just know it. Not _the _Brooks; but he's a close relation. And it's only due to the menacing look on his face that I've finally realised this fact.

"Hello, Gabriella," he says, his mouth forming a twisted smile.

_What do I do? _I think frantically, even though on the outside, I haven't dared to move yet. _Do I play along?_ For the sake of my safety; and that of my baby's, I might have to do just that.

"Andrew, hi," I reply calmly, breaking into what I hope is a casual smile. "Any idea why the doors are locked?"

"Oh, are they?" he asks, actually sounding confused. And if I hadn't just worked him out, I probably would have been convinced by his performance. "I saw the caretaker earlier, why don't we go and ask him for the keys?"

In that moment I realise that the caretaker can't be anywhere nearby. I doubt any member of staff is within a metre of where he's going to take me. He'll have worked out the parts of the building where there are no club sessions taking place.

"Okay, lead the way," I say in a jokey manner, as he walks away from the exit. As I follow him and quietly get my phone from my bag, I hope and pray that he hasn't noticed that I'm on to him. If he thinks I'm still none the wiser, then what I'm about to do won't give him any reason to be suspicious.

"I'd better text my husband and let him know I won't be long – he's probably wondering where I am!" I add with a light chuckle, as if simply referring to the locked door 'mishap' in my humour.

The man – I don't know what to call him now, except Andrew to his face – turns around and stops in front of me again. At this point, my fingers are just accessing the message icon on my phone when he suddenly grabs it from my hand. "No need for that," he replies, his tone darker now.

_Oh God..._

"Come on, then," he adds with far too much contrasting cheer. Then he puts a hand on my shoulder to coax me in the direction he wants to take me. I have no choice; he isn't going to let me get away.

I feel sick. And it's definitely not morning sickness anymore.

Five minutes later we reach the caretaker's stock room cupboard. "You see, here we are!" he exclaims. He opens the door, and I want to run because I know what's coming next by now. But he's behind me; escape is impossible.

He pushes me inside and slams the door shut. And then, to my horror, he is locking it. There's no light, the space is relatively small, and I can't catch my breath. I can hear his footsteps, fading away.

Is _this _supposed to be revenge? Locking me up and running away? Eerily, though, it matches the actions of Troy's attacker perfectly. He committed assault, ran away, then was locked up.

There is no doubt that this has been done on _that _man's behalf. Meaning there is someone just as despicable as him on the loose.

_**.HSM.**_

I'm crouched on the floor of the stock cupboard, with no awareness of how much time has passed. If I wasn't pregnant, and if I had an ounce of strength in me; I would try and kick this door down.

The sound of someone approaching keeps me still, straining to listen for any other movements. _Please let this be someone else. Anyone else,_ I think as I cross my fingers in desperation.

"Everyone else is gone now, Gabriella. We're the only ones left in the building," he says in a creepy, yet pleased sounding voice.

He must have unlocked the main doors, allowing staff and pupils to leave without any knowledge of what's going on; and then locked the building again. But surely, then, he has stolen the caretaker's keys. Where the hell _is _the caretaker? The guy who usually locks up?

Suddenly I just feel angry. I know that really, I shouldn't risk talking back. But I want answers. "Who the hell _are_ you? If you're going to keep me in here like this, I deserve to know what your problem is!"

Of course, for the most part I'm already sure about the reasons for this ambush. But I want to hear it.

"Who am I? Let's just start with who you are, shall we?" he says. "You sent my brother to prison, all because you were sleeping with the guy who _claimed_ to be the victim."

"What!" If I was angry before, now I'm utterly furious. But I'm still in no position to have the upper hand. Among my disgust, I recall the fact that Brooks did have an older brother.

"Well, why don't I break it down for you?" he adds. "What was his name...oh yes, Bolton. Now your husband, incidentally. He accused my brother of assault and attempted murder. And because of _you_, testifying against him; he was sent down."

"He was 'sent down' because he beat Troy to within an inch of his life!" I shout. "I was there, I saw _everything_. It's how we met. Your brother attacked Troy until he couldn't move. And then he _kicked_ him, over and over, and ran away. The only thing Troy did that night was try and diffuse a fight that _your brother_ was already having with another guy. If you're trying to protest that man's innocence, then either you're deluded; or he's a very convincing actor."

There is silence on the other side of the door. Did he really believe that much in his brother after all that happened? If Brooks' own mother knew when to admit her son's guilt; then why didn't this man see the truth as well? Or is he bluffing, in which case this really is all just revenge?

There is a loud thump outside. Then all I hear is whimpering. It seems he may have realised that his brother was always guilty. Now all I can do is wait, and hope that he comes to his senses and unlocks the door.

After a few minutes have passed, I hear a scuffling and assume he is getting to his feet.

_Oh please, just let me go home to Troy..._

And then I hear running. Running _away_. He's actually going to leave me trapped in here. Has he panicked and realised what a mess he's got himself into? And if he has, doesn't he realise that leaving me like this is going to make things worse for him? Whether he's a good person or not deep down, he's still manhandled me and locked me up.

Oh my God, I'm going to be here all night. What if I run out of air? I'm going to suffocate, and Troy won't be able to find me. Even if he comes here, how is he going to work out that I'm in this tiny little room? I don't know if I can make enough noise to alert anyone to my whereabouts. Not in this state.

I can do nothing now, not even protect my unborn child. It is this thought that terrifies me, erupting me into body-shaking sobs as I drop to my knees.

Even when Troy and I were apart; even when we had to go through that trial, I never lost all hope.

But I can feel it disappearing now. And if I can't cling onto hope, how will I ever get through this?

My energy levels are dropping too. I close my eyes, feeling helpless and useless. Leaning back and finding a solid wall behind me, I rest my head against it.

I don't want to give up, but my ability to even think is slipping away now.

And the last thing I can feel is the ultimate reminder of life, as my hands rest over my stomach protectively – my last conscious movement before I unwillingly lose myself to the darkness.

**Sorry to leave you hanging again! Look out for an update soon, and:**

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	8. Safety

**Hey guys – nine reviews for the last chapter, made me smile, thanks :) I must just add this though **–Crazy4BIEBER17MrsJustinBieber: **Glad you were so engrossed in the last chapter! But omg I wouldn't advise reading anything while doing cutting of any kind lol... I'd better warn you that this one's an emotional one then! Anyway, enjoy chapter eight...**

I can hear voices coming from somewhere. It's a faint sound, but it's there. I open my eyes and it takes me half a minute to work out where I am. But I soon remember when nothing but darkness comes into view.

I could have spent all night here already – I don't know how long I've been out of it for.

Telling myself that I need to wake up properly and keep going for the sake of Troy and our baby, I slowly get to my feet. I keep one hand resting on my stomach, and the other against the wall to support myself. And then I realise that the voices I could hear when I first stirred are gradually getting louder. I can't decipher what they are saying yet; I just hope they know I'm here.

On impulse, I do something that would have made more sense a lot earlier. I try the door handle – even though I know it was locked when I got pushed in here. Sure enough, it won't budge. I look around, hoping to find something that might help me break the door down.

There's only a mop and a broom. All I can do with those is create more noise than I could do on my own.

Then I am still again, having brought the equipment closer to me. Now I can actually hear what is being said, somewhere out there. But the voices are unrecognisable to me.

"What exactly did the woman say?" asks one man.

"She said she had reason to believe that her son might have put Mrs Bolton in danger. Here," comes another man's reply.

_Brooks' mother alerted the authorities!_ I realise with a start.

"There's no sign of him, though," the first man tells him. "Maybe we've worried her husband over nothing?"

I am panicked now. Well, even more so than before. What if they decide the call was a false alarm. Immediately I pick up the broom and get ready to hit the door with it.

"I don't think so. She's still been missing all night, that's more than enough reason to worry," says the other colleague, and I sigh with slight relief. "Besides, he could be hiding somewhere with a weapon."

The thought of that instantly takes away my relief.

Now the voices are even nearer and I take a deep breath to shout before I try the broom.

"I'm in here! Help!" Although it takes all my strength to try and yell it, all that comes out is a croak of words. So I force the broom hard against the door with an almighty shove, and hope for the best. After the third hit, one of the men finally reacts.

"Did you hear that?"

"No, what was it?"

"A loud banging – it has to be someone making a noise," he says. _Yes, it is. It's me, please find me! _I think as I grab the mop and use that stick to continue the noise.

And then I hear running, until their footsteps are literally right outside. I keep banging the door another couple of times for good measure, and then it is pulled open abruptly.

I take in the air and drop my 'noise makers' which land with a thud beside me.

"We've found her," states one of the men as he talks into a radio. I hear a response that his colleagues are outside and that there is still no sign of the guy that put me through this. They must have really thought there was a risk of weapons – I know from Troy that the Police always bring back up if that's the case.

"Mrs Bolton, can you talk to me?" asks the other officer. "You're going to be okay now."

"I'm...I'm okay," I answer hesitantly – for I haven't had a chance to think that over yet. But I _seem_ okay. And as long as the baby is too, I _will _be okay.

Just as the officers help me up, I hear another voice coming my way. And that is when a sense of calmness washes over me.

"Please just let me in, you can see he's not around. Even if he was I would still need to be here. I need to be with my wife!"

Another man is running with Troy as he comes into my view; and as he agrees to let him stay in the building, I stumble over and fall into my husband's arms.

I feel weak, exhausted and a little dizzy. But I'm safe. Safe in Troy's arms.

"Oh Gabi," he says tearfully. "Baby, did he hurt you?"

I can't find the words to explain everything just yet, so instead I pull back and shake my head. Troy pulls me closer to him and lets out a breath.

"I don't know what I would have done if..." he breaks off, not wanting to say what could have happened. Then he looks at me closely. "Are you alright?"

"I just...I don't know if...our baby..." is all I can manage, still feeling dizzy as I cling to him.

"Okay. It's going to be okay sweetheart," he says soothingly, although I can sense the worry in his voice at the same time. "We need to get to the hospital, now," he adds to the policemen. "My wife is pregnant."

They nod and lead us out of the building. Troy keeps a protective arm around me as we follow them. I'm shaking now, and although I know there is going to be a lot to discuss later over what's happened here; I can only focus on one thing. The baby.

_**.HSM.**_

It's amazing how you can feel so utterly terrified in one moment; and then be so relieved in the next. As soon as the doctor told us that our baby is going to be just fine, I knew that nothing else mattered. In that very second, there was just Troy, me, and the knowledge that the little life inside me is still going strong.

For now I still don't want to think about the nightmare I have just endured. I want to block it out for just a bit longer.

The doctor is still in the room, and the ultrasound is still going. She is smiling at us. "Did you know yet whether you are having a boy or a girl?"

Troy and I look at each other, silently agreeing that we just have to find out. Especially now, when we need to hear something positive more than ever.

The doctor catches our look and we signal to her that no, we don't know; but that yes, we _want _to know. "It's a girl," she tells us cheerfully.

"A little girl, Gabi," whispers Troy as he picks up my hand and presses a gentle kiss to it. "We're having a girl!"

Tears slide down my face and I beam at him, feeling so lucky right now. "A baby girl..." I echo softly.

"I'll give you both some time alone now," says the doctor, who promptly leaves the room.

"Hey, how are you doing?" asks Troy. "You know everything's going to be alright, don't you? I won't ever let anyone get to you like that again, I promise you."

I can block it out no longer. I'm grateful things didn't become as bad as they could have been; but at the same time, I remember that what _did_ happen was traumatic enough for a pregnant woman. I was trapped all night, and by the time I got outside, it was only half an hour away from the start of the next school day. "It was his brother, Troy. He was working at the school all along, right under my nose!" I blurt out.

I'm shaking again as I speak. Troy gets up from his chair and crouches beside me. "I know," he replies. "He's been around you all this time, waiting to do something for revenge. And I couldn't even protect you..." He breaks off and instantly I ease myself up on the bed to sit up.

"No, Troy, don't," I tell him. "We had no idea this was coming. I know I felt uncertain about him but I could never have guessed who he was or what he would do. So don't torture yourself."

He nods, then looks up at me again. "His mother called the police and said that her son, _Anthony _Brooks, had told her that he was impersonating a teacher at a school. She then asked him why, and he said he was biding his time to make someone pay. Apparently she put two and two together and, remembering that you were a teacher, realised that he was going after you."

I have gradually begun to calm down now, listening intently to what Troy has found out. "I think he really thought his brother was innocent, Troy," I reply, thinking back to that heated conversation during which I described the whole attack to him. "He accused me of testifying only because I was your girlfriend at the time, and I told him straight. I think he knew, by the time I'd said my piece. But instead of letting me go he just ran off."

All through this Troy appears to have been thinking, and now he tells me what he thinks. "I don't care what illusions he was under. Even if his brother convinced him he was innocent, there's no excuse. He shoved you into a small space and then locked you in. You were in there all night, and you could've..." He takes a deep breath. "Gabriella, a few years back one man tried to take my life. And when I got that phone call from the police this morning, I thought it was happening again. Only this time it was you. You _are _my life now, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that man is caught."

He is echoing the same vow I made to myself; the promise that I would do my utmost to get _his_ attacker brought to justice. I can't help but break down in tears again; but it's not out of distress. At least, I don't think it is.

"Baby? Are you okay?" asks Troy and I jump down from the bed and into his arms, where I need to be.

"I'm fine," I whisper. "I love you."

"I love you too, Gabi," he tells me, his arms still wrapped around me. "I love you so much."

After this ordeal, I don't know when we're going to be able to look back on this chapter in our lives and say 'it's over'. We'd thought it had been over a long time ago, but clearly it never was.

Life is uncertain. But once again, I'm not alone in it. I have Troy, and soon we'll have our own little family. A baby girl who I need to stay strong for.

**Next chapter: Will 'the other Brooks' be caught? And Troy and Gabi get a visitor.**

**Please Review! ;)**

**Thank you**


	9. Relief

**Thanks as always guys for the reviews! A few years ago I remember watching an interview of a mother whose two sons had attacked another man. The victim was a husband _and_ father, and he survived. The mother had reported her sons to the police and the victim was taking the opportunity to thank her for what she did. Her sons disowned her for doing the right thing. That story is what made me think of the storyline of _TIB, _and this chapter links to it. Hope you like it...**

About a week after Anthony Brooks took me hostage, he handed himself into the police. He admitted manhandling me, locking me up and then running away. In his own words he was 'convinced' that his brother was innocent and 'wrongly imprisoned' for Troy's attack. Carl Brooks had, he claimed, begged his older brother to trust in him, and that he had. So much so, that he had agreed to do his brother a favour: find the key witness and 'make her pay somehow'.

Police questioned whether running away had always been part of his plan. Anthony admitted that it hadn't been. He said that his intention had been to scare me, and it was fuelled by the anger he felt on his brother's behalf. Carl had wanted him to do 'more' (I try not to think about it, but I know this means he wanted me to get hurt), but Anthony claimed he couldn't have brought himself to do more than frighten me. According to him, it was a stretch for him even to shove me in the way that he did. But apparently the things I said back to him; that detailed analysis I gave on what happened to Troy, is what made him disappear.

He claimed that in that moment, he felt sick as he realised that Carl had lied to him. And in the next moment; the panic set in. He knew he had just kidnapped an innocent woman, and that he was now just as terrible a person as his brother was.

So he ran.

I can almost understand what must have driven him to trap me as he did. The pure and genuine belief that somebody had done their best to get his brother locked up. And I _had_ done that. Only what he didn't know was that his brother had thoroughly deserved it.

What there is no excuse for is him leaving me locked in a tiny cupboard, even upon discovering the truth.

And so he has been charged for what he did to me, and now Troy and I are waiting to hear what will happen next. All we know is that he has been remanded in custody since the day he turned himself in. And that was almost four weeks ago.

It is the weekend, and Troy has just popped out to get some milk, allowing me to have a lie in. Typically though, the phone starts ringing, so I now have no choice but to get up.

"Hello?" I say after padding out onto the landing where we keep one of our two house phones and picking up the receiver.

"Mrs Bolton?" comes a voice I am vaguely familiar with. "This is Chief Constable Morris. Is your husband home?" Now I know who this is. It's the head of the police – but Troy knows him simply as 'Mike'.

"Oh, hello there," I reply. "Actually he's just popped out, but he won't be long..."

"That's fine, I can just give you the news. I think it will be better for him to hear it from you, anyway," the man says kindly. But now I feel worried. Does this mean it's bad news?

"Wh...what is it?" I stutter nervously. Instead of sounding grave and sombre, though, his voice takes on an almost triumphant tone. And then I find out why.

He tells me that Carl Brooks' appeal request has been denied. He must serve the rest of his time in prison, without a chance of parole in that time. Immediately I breathe a huge sigh of relief, and thank the constable for letting me know. However, it seems he hasn't said it all yet. There is something else he wants to let me know of, he explains.

I listen incredulously as he tells me that Brooks' mother wants to meet Troy. Well, the both of us. This is the brave woman who reported her son for leaving Troy to die; and who even testified against him in court. As well as that, she also tipped off police as to what her other son was up to. Truth be told, I have always wanted to thank her. But I never expected her to make this move.

Morris explains that if we want to meet her too, he will help to set up a meeting by passing on our details to her, or hers to us. "Well," I say, still stunned. "I'll have to talk to Troy and find out how he feels about it. Can we get back to you sometime soon?"

"Of course, take your time," he answers.

"Thank you. And thank you for calling to let us know about the appeal, too," I add. We exchange goodbyes and then hang up. And wouldn't you know it, at that exact moment the door clicks open downstairs, and I know that Troy is back from the shop.

"Gabi?" he calls out.

"Up here, Troy!" I call back as I wrap my dressing gown around me, having begun to feel a little cold.

My face must still show my complete and utter shock, because as he spots me in the doorway of our room, a concerned look replaces his smile. "Hey, what is it?" he asks.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," I reassure him, placing a hand on my ever growing bump. "_We're _fine. But can you come and sit down with me for a minute?" I take his hand and we sit together on the bed. "I've just got off the phone. It was the Chief Constable," I explain slowly.

Instantly Troy looks as anxious as I felt when I had answered the phone. "It's alright, really," I say, gently squeezing his hand in support. "It's good news. He just wanted to let us know that Brooks' request for an appeal was denied. He's got to serve his whole sentence."

My heart swells when his face relaxes, and he squeezes my hand back. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them to look at me. "Really?" he says quietly. I just nod, and for a few minutes we just sit there in silence, basking in this new knowledge. Troy rests his head on my shoulder, and though I don't let on, I know he is crying. This is months of pent up worry coming out all at once. I stroke his hair, thankful that there is justice in this world.

Eventually he composes himself and plants a soft, short kiss on my lips. I smile back at him and decide that now is the time to tell him what else I have found out this morning. "There was something else Constable Morris had to tell us," I say softly. Troy looks up in wonder, and I continue. "Brooks' mother wants to meet us. I told him we would have to talk about it and get back to him, because the whole thing would be arranged through them."

For another minute, Troy says nothing. Then he takes a deep breath. "Wow."

"That's what I thought, too," I reply. "How do you feel apart from that?"

"Well, I've often thought about being able to thank her one day for what she did. To be honest, it was ever since that day at the trial when she had to testify. It was so obvious that she never meant to implicate us in court. It was also obvious that she was sickened by what her son did. And if it weren't for her calling the police on her other son, it might have taken us longer to find you. I have a lot to be grateful for," he tells me.

"I feel the same. What she did was really brave. And she must have to live with what her son did to you every day. So what do you think? Do you want to meet her?" I ask.

"Yes, I do. What about you?"

"I'd like to meet her too. So, that's our decision made then!" I say with a smile.

There's no denying this is no ordinary situation. But perhaps some good can come out of everything we've been through. After all, we already found one good thing out of the ordeal. Each other.

_**.HSM.**_

A few weeks after receiving the phone call, Troy and I are on our way to meet Mrs Brooks at her house. We did invite her over to us initially, but she insisted that she wouldn't hear of us going to any trouble, especially when she learned I am pregnant.

And so we find ourselves parking outside a small, yet inviting-looking house. As we link hands and wander up the little path leading to the door, we give each other a reassuring look, and then Troy rings the bell.

Having only seen this woman during the trial, all I remember is the heartbroken look on her face that day. But this time, as she opens the door, I see a cheerful lady with short blonde hair. The familiar features on her face remind me that it is the very same person.

"Troy and Gabriella?" she greets us warmly, and we nod and offer her a smile each. "I'm Sandra. Come on in." We follow her indoors and find a very tidy, but modest home. As we all sit down, she is the first to speak again.

"I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you both. I...I've always had it in my head what I wanted to say to you, but seeing you here in front of me...well, what I planned on saying doesn't seem enough." She looks down briefly, and when she raises her head again I see that there are tears in her eyes.

"It's okay," Troy tells her kindly, letting her know that he doesn't blame her. And this seems to be enough to give her the courage to go on.

"Thank you. It's not okay, but thank you. What my son did to you, Troy, was horrifying. I'm so sorry. I'm truly sorry for everything you've been through – both of you. I didn't even realise what my older son was planning until it was almost too late," she says, turning to look at me halfway through her speech. "I can say nothing to explain or defend what Carl did that night. I haven't seen or spoken to him since that trial, and to be honest, I don't want to."

For some reason, this actually surprises me. Perhaps it is because I've always heard that a mother's love is unconditional, and that they can forgive their children. Then again, I couldn't dismiss it if my child had done what Carl Brooks had done.

Sandra sees my face and elaborates. "He disowned me. It hurt a bit at first, because I just wanted him to see that he had done something terrible, and to see that I had no choice in what I did. I wanted him to be sorry. But he's never shown any remorse. That's why I'm glad he didn't get the chance to carry out that appeal."

We smile back at her, and I am increasingly glad that we came here today. This is one genuinely incredible lady.

"All I can say about Anthony is that he's spent the last few years in turmoil over his brother. Carl had him so convinced that he was innocent, and nothing I could say would make him see otherwise. I told him over and over again that his brother had confessed to me, but he wouldn't have it. They've always been close, the two of them, you see. Then I noticed that Anthony was acting strangely, and a few days before he did what he...what he did, he let me in on what was going on inside his head." Sandra falters for a moment and is clearly thinking deeply about recent events.

She pushes her hair out of her eyes, and then continues. "Finally I remembered something, and it made me realise that it was you he could be putting in danger. So I called the police and reported one of my sons for the second time."

"Thank you so much," I utter, feeling overwhelmed but taking in everything that is said.

"I don't need a thank you, my dear, really. It was the very least thing I could do, and I would do it again if I had to."

"My wife is right, Mrs Brooks...Sandra," says Troy, correcting himself. "No matter how you see it, we do owe you a thank you. What you did took so much bravery and compassion. And it shouldn't be up to you to apologise for what your sons have done, either."

"Then I must thank you," she replies. "For reaffirming something that I've always believed – that I made the right decision."

It's as I sit there, holding my husband's hand and listening to this remarkable woman; that I make a decision of my own.

I want to put an end to all of the hatred that is mixed into this situation. At least any hatred on our part. I will never forgive what Carl Brooks did to Troy, and I'll never be able to forget it. But thanks to that one man's actions all those years ago; there are things none of us have ever been able to let go of. For Troy and I, it is disbelief, and haunting memories that plague us. Brooks' brother took his disbelief even more literally, and couldn't accept the truth. Their mother has had to accept that her son is nothing but a vicious monster of a human being. And one who led his own brother astray too.

But this visit today has left me wanting us all to be able to let go. Of the pain, the trauma, and all other remnants of that cold, terrifying night.

And once we've all let go of that; we can finally move on for good. We can finally _all _be happy.

**Thanks for reading!**

**The next chapter will be the last. **

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	10. Epilogue: The End

**Well, here it is: the last ever chapter in this story. Again, just as I did with _TIB_, I am writing the last chapter in Troy's point of view, as he looks back on his life. Towards the end of the chapter you may recognise a reference to the first story, which I added as a final touch. I hope you all like it. Enjoy!**

There have been a few defining moments in my life, and most of them were because of my wife, Gabriella. It was thanks to her that I was finally able to get over an ordeal that I had gone through just before I met her.

The thing about my Gabi is, she has always wanted to be ordinary. Just a woman; a wife, a mother. But I still have to remind her that she is the most remarkable person I have ever known. And so I tell her this, every day.

It was just a few months before our daughter, and our first child, was born that Gabriella made a decision that would shock me beyond belief. We had just returned home from visiting the mother of the man who attacked me. Which, it has to be said, sounds shocking in itself. But Sandra Brooks was the one who reported her son for what he did to me. And she continued to remain true to her decision to do so some years later. We ended up staying in regular contact with her after that first visit.

Anyway, as we sat down in our living room, Gabi took a deep breath and rested her hand on her bump. "Troy, there's something I want to talk to you about. But I don't know what you're going to say or think."

"Okay." I replied softly. "Try me."

"I'd like to go and see Anthony. With you there too, of course."

I made no effort to hide that I was absolutely horrified. The man, who was also the brother of my attacker, had posed as a teacher at the school where Gabi worked. Then he had locked her in the building one evening after lessons had ended, and pushed her into the caretaker's cupboard. After locking the door, he had eventually scarpered, leaving her trapped all night. Pregnant, scared, and alone.

So why on earth would she want to go and see someone who had put her through all that?

"Are you serious?" I exclaimed loudly. "I'm not letting you anywhere near him ever again! I promised you that after it happened. I don't understand, what's brought this on?"

"I know this sounds completely crazy, believe me. But you remember what the police told us. Anthony admitted everything to them. He'd had faith in his brother all this time, and Carl took advantage of that. You heard what their mother said. I'm not saying he didn't have a mind of his own when he locked me up; but he'd been won over by his brother, and it made him angry on his behalf." Gabi kept her eyes away from me for the time being, obviously anxious of my next response.

"I'm not saying that he's just as bad as his brother. But even if he's genuinely sorry; even if he was persuaded to do what he did, the bottom line for me is that he put you in danger at all."

She was quiet for a few minutes, and I could tell she wouldn't have dreamt of arguing against my point. Especially as she was carrying our child.

"Troy," she started after a while. "If your attacker had been remorseful, would you have wanted to ask him why he did what he did?"

This had me stumped. It was an unexpected question. I still hadn't answered by the time she spoke again.

"He doesn't deserve the chance to explain himself, and he'll never get to, anyway. But maybe his brother _should _have that chance. Mainly, though, I want to do this for us."

I wasn't sure what she meant. Was she saying she was willing to forgive what had happened to her? Because I didn't think I could ever do that. Before I could get to the bottom of that, though, there was something else I had to find out.

"For us?" I asked, studying her face which seemed so sure, so determined. "What do you mean?"

"Troy, I think we need closure. _You _need closure, from everything you've been through. We now know that Carl Brooks cannot appeal his sentence; we've met and thanked his mother for reporting him. I just feel that the last piece to pick up is to hear Anthony's story."

"I won't forgive him for what he did to you, Gabi," I told her firmly, as my mind slowly began to understand what she was trying to say.

"I'm not asking you to. I couldn't even _think_ about forgiving what happened to you either." She paused for half a minute, and I could see that this whole conversation never was about forgiveness. It was about moving on. "It's just that I've seen what all of this has done to you, Troy. Physically, you recovered quickly from the attack and we've been happy together all this time. But deep down, I know you're not truly over it. And I wouldn't expect you to be. Some people never get over things like that, and I know I'll never forget that night myself. I'm not saying it needs to be forgotten. It just needs to be put to rest."

By now her words were starting to hit home, and I felt myself feeling anxious. Talking about the attack in such detail always made me feel that way. "Put to rest?" was all I could manage to reply.

"Yes," she said gently, taking hold of my hand. Then she ran her other hand through my hair and rested it on the side of my head, in order to make another point. "Up here."

Gabi was right. My mind was still in trauma over the events of that night. And I hadn't acknowledged that yet. As I nodded my head, showing my wife that I understood, tears pooled in my eyes and she leaned over to put her arms around me.

When she spoke next I knew that her own emotions were getting the better of her, because her voice cracked. "I think this is something that we both need to do. I don't think I've really allowed myself to overcome what happened that night at the school either."

I held her tightly in my arms as we both cried into each other's shoulders. And when we pulled back, I took hold of both of her hands and took my turn to speak.

"I'm sorry, baby. I should have thought about you before, because you've had to go through all this with me. And it was you that suffered too, and you that was trapped all night. If you want to do this, then that's what we'll do. I think you're right about closure, too. I _have _been affected by the attack all this time. I thought I was okay because I've had you by my side ever since. But it's always been there in the back of my mind, and not in a healthy way."

And so right then and there, I made my own decision. It was time to let go.

Weeks later, Gabriella and I made the trip to come face to face with Anthony Brooks, who was still on remand for what he had done. It was the most surreal thing I had ever experienced. The moment we sat down opposite him, his face whitened, and he looked like a frightened lost soul. And when we heard what he had to say to us, it only confirmed what we had been told before. The man had been completely consumed by the belief that his brother, Carl, was innocent. He had been manipulated into getting revenge.

He sat there looking at us both with pure shame in his eyes, and I could see he was being sincere. There was remorse there, something that had never been present upon his brother. When he admitted that he had run away after realising the truth, I in turn realised why. It wasn't because he was evil, like I believed his brother to be. He had done it because of fear and weakness.

I still wasn't going to forgive, and I told him so. But that visit helped me establish a difference between him and his brother. I had needed to see a sense of regret, and if I wasn't going to get it from _my _attacker; at least it existed close to home.

Gabi found herself able to move on from her own ordeal after that day; and there were two more things we gained the strength to do next.

The first was to report Carl Brooks for conspiracy to harm, with evidence from his brother _and _his mother. Eventually the charge was added to his sentence. Anthony Brooks was later given a suspended sentence, and we chose to accept this.

After that, we decided to arrange some counselling sessions. Some were for me, others were for the both of us. But Gabi was there, right by my side through it all. Without her, I wouldn't have bothered going; wouldn't have even thought of seeing a counsellor.

Eventually, and just as we were preparing to welcome our first child into the world; something changed within me. I became more comfortable with talking about the attack. I'm not saying I'd spent the years before as a tortured soul; far from it. But Gabriella had been right, and so had I once I'd admitted it: I hadn't got over what had happened to me. I'd simply let the best thing in my life – the one good aspect of that night – cover up how I truly felt about the worst moments.

The fact that the best thing in my life happened to be Gabi, just made the process of 'trying to forget' that much easier.

I'd known she was the love of my life from the very first time we kissed. It's not hard to focus on the happy times when a person makes you _that _happy every moment you're with her.

As it turned out, my final counselling session was to occur just a week before Gabriella's due date. Little did we know that our baby had chosen to surprise us early. Having left Gabi resting at home while her mother stayed in the house with her for the hour; I left the session, checked my phone for messages, and my eyes widened in shock.

Ten missed calls. Some from Gabi; some from her mother.

And one voice mail that sprung me into action.

Her waters had broken. She was in labour, and she needed me. I _had _to get to her; nothing else was more important in that moment. I had just said goodbye to a huge weight on my shoulders, and now it was time to say hello to a new chapter in both mine and Gabriella's lives.

So before I knew it, I was sitting by her bed at the hospital, holding her hand as we waited for her to be sent to the delivery room.

"So how did your last session go?" she asked, searching my eyes.

"My last session? Gabi, don't think about me, think about yourself right now, okay? It's my turn to look after you," I replied, marvelling at my wife's selflessness.

"You always look after me, Troy," she told me with a reassuring smile.

"You may not realise it, baby, but you've been my rock since the very first day I set eyes on you. Believe me, it _is _my turn to be yours now," I insist. Then, as an afterthought, I brief her with the answer she was wanting. "It was good today. It felt like I'd achieved a lot at the end of all that...talking!"

Gabi let out a giggle, then sucked in a sharp breath as a contraction hit her seconds after. I let her squeeze my hand until it passed, then gently rubbed her back in what I hoped were soothing motions. "But if I thought it felt great earlier, imagine how I'm going to feel in a few hours, when you've made me a daddy!"

"I know what you mean, I can't believe I'm going to be known as mummy soon. It's a good feeling though." Ironically, as she finished that sentence she let out a scream that told me otherwise. But before I could do my best to soothe her through her pain again, the doctor came back in to announce that it was time to head to delivery.

I walked beside her as she was wheeled out, still clutching her hand. "Come on then, mummy," I grinned. "Time for us to become parents!"

Gabi smiled up at me, then turned her head and gasped as we approached the floor we needed to be on. Standing in wait were all the people I'd called whilst making my mad dash to the hospital.

There were my parents, along with her mum who had been grabbing a coffee while we were waiting; and godmother Erin on our left. On our right was Kelly, with Chad (the godfather, heaven help us) and Taylor.

"You're all here..." Gabi managed as she tried to maintain her breathing.

"Of course they are sweetheart," replied Maria, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek. "None of us can wait to meet that little one in there." She placed a hand on Gabriella's stomach for a brief moment, then let everyone else have a say before we were to disappear into the next room. When it was my mum and dad's turn, I could see the joy shining in each of their eyes. And when I looked between them and my wife, I knew that somewhere, there was a mutual kind of feeling that they were sharing.

I've often been told about those first few days when I was in hospital, no one sure of my future. Gabi had bonded with my parents through their most heartbreaking experience; and now here they were again together, for something that couldn't have been more different. "See you soon, honey," said my mother softly, before turning to look at me – tearful, but happy. "Troy..."

"I know, Mum," I whispered. "I know." And with that, the door was opened, and in we went to become a family of three.

And sometime later, when I held our daughter in my arms; I felt about the luckiest man on earth.

As I sat next to Gabi on the bed, I turned to her and asked, "So, what's our final decision on the name?"

She beamed up at me and I instinctively felt that she'd been giving it a lot of thought in the last few days. "Well...what do you think of Karley, with a 'K'?"

I looked down at the little bundle in my arms and grinned. "She looks just like a Karley to me," I replied. "What made you think of it?"

"I did my research...guess what it means in Latin," came the unexpected answer, and I'm sure my face showed that I had absolutely no idea.

"It means 'little and strong'," she told me, still smiling. "Remember, it was our strength that got us through everything and brought us to this moment."

Her words were the perfect description of us, and I could think of no better symbol of our love than to give our daughter such a meaningful name. "Karley Bolton it is then," was my response. Then I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Gabi's lips.

"What was that for?" she asked, her eyes still closed from the kiss as I pulled away again.

"I love you," I answered simply, needing no other reason.

"And I love you," she whispered, just as Karley made a little gurgling noise to get our attention.

"I love both of my girls more than anything," I added, putting an arm around Gabi as I brought our little girl closer to her; the three of us in our own private bubble together.

And in that moment, I knew in all certainty I was truly, finally over the past. All that mattered now was the future.

That day is ingrained in my memory as clearly as any other I have spent with my wife. And today, we celebrate the anniversary of coming into each other's lives, fifty years on.

We have known all along that our lives have been anything but simple. Our story _is _remarkable; we've been told enough times so we had to acknowledge it.

But all we need is each other as we sit here, hand in hand and more in love than ever. We are at the beach, sitting on a bench. Fish and chips wrapped in newspaper is our special dinner of choice.

My name is Troy Bolton, and I am now an old man. A long time ago, my life was almost taken from me. But with survival came one woman; and that was just the beginning of the rest of my life.

**Wow. Story over. Thank you for reading and reviewing, especially if you've followed this right from the first moment of their meeting. I have already begun writing my next story, and will post the first chapter in a few days, so look out for that :)**

**Please Review! **


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